


without words

by epsiloneridani



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, cody's not backing down until he does, obi-wan needs to sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:00:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24853465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epsiloneridani/pseuds/epsiloneridani
Summary: They've never needed words.Cody and Obi-Wan. A quiet moment of reprieve.
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody & Obi-Wan Kenobi, No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 30
Kudos: 225





	without words

“When was the last time you slept?”

Obi-Wan blinks blearily at him. He’s almost slumped over the desk in front of him. His robes are rumpled; his hair, usually the pride and joy of his appearance, is matted down on one side, as if he rested his head on his arms and passed out without meaning to.

Obi-Wan rubs absently at his eyes. “Earlier, I think?” he suggests, confirming Cody’s suspicions. “I was asleep for a – while.”

Cody folds his arms across his chest and cocks his head at him. “For how long?” he presses, when Obi-Wan doesn’t elaborate.

Kenobi lifts his shoulders in a helpless shrug. It’s so slow it’s almost exaggerated. Cody would assume he was just being dramatic again if he didn’t look like he was about to drop dead.

“A while,” Obi-Wan repeats, a measured monotone. He’s slowly listing to the left. Cody’s half-step and outstretched hand seem to be enough to cue him in because he jolts and rights himself abruptly. His palms press flat against the desk. He clears his throat. “I’m fine, Cody.”

Cody snorts. “Even if I believed you,” he says, “it is well past zero-two-hundred. You should be asleep.”

“‘Maintaining a proper sleep schedule is paramount to effective command,’” Obi-Wan says dryly. “Your words, if I recall correctly. Is it ‘do as I say and not as I do’, then?”

Cody rolls his eyes. “I’m not going to debate with you, negotiator.”

“I’m just saying, it hardly seems fair.”

“Not. A. Debate.”

“You are also very much awake at this hour,” Kenobi says, unrelenting, and motions to Cody’s grey uniform. He hates the thing. If his armor wasn’t being repaired and replaced, he’d be in that instead.

Cody blows out a breath. “I’ve been helping Sol,” he says.

“You’re a medic now?”

Sol kicked everyone who wasn’t medical staff out of the medbay a day ago. Too many wounded, too little space, he said, though Cody suspects it has less to do with space and more to do with Sol wanting to fuss over his brothers without anyone being there to bear witness. No one’s been in or out in over twenty-four hours. Marshal commander or not, there’s no way Cody would have been allowed in.

Obi-Wan sees the truth of the lie in his eyes. There’s a stubborn sort of triumph in his smile.

“Regardless,” Cody says, through grit teeth, “you need to rest, General.”

Obi-Wan stares at him. Cody meets his gaze squarely. For a long moment, they’re locked in a silent battle of wills.

At last, Obi-Wan sighs. “All right,” he says, easing to his feet. “I suppose you’re correct.”

“Glad you’ve decided to see reason.”

“The longer I am awake, the longer you will spend trying to convince me to sleep, and the less rest you’ll get,” Obi-Wan says. “It makes perfect sense.”

Cody’s not sure how to tell him that he’s allowed to take care of himself without convoluting it in his head to be about someone else. The longer the war wears on, the thinner Obi-Wan seems to get. He says the Force sustains him, but he also says the Force grows more twisted and shadowed with every passing day. Kenobi’s a sentinel of the sun: he breathes light.

If the silver sheen at his temples is anything to go by, he’s suffocating in the dark.

“Sleep,” Cody reminds, and palms the door open. He waits for Obi-Wan to follow, then leads the way down the corridor.

“What’s keeping you up?”

Cody glances at him. “What?”

Obi-Wan’s eyes are shot through with angry red veins, but still bleed that open empathy. “You’re not still awake at this hour for nothing, my friend,” he says. “What’s bothering you?”

Cody sighs. “It’s nothing,” he says, and doesn’t have to look to know Kenobi’s frowning.

“Cody.”

Cody shuffles to a slow stop. There’s a blade in his chest, burning deep. He takes a moment to speak. “It’s nothing,” he repeats, and curses the note of strain in his voice. It doesn’t matter if it’s faint. Obi-Wan will notice.

He always notices.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Kenobi says gently, and rests a hand on his shoulder. “But if you want to, I’m here.”

Cody’s heart turns painfully. His eyes sting. He wants to swipe at them, but the best he can do is blink. “We lost Thorn on Scipio,” he says in a rush. His voice cracks.

Obi-Wan’s face falls. “I heard,” he says. “I’m so sorry.”

Cody shakes his head. “He was part of my command class,” he says, curling his hand into a fist. His arm shakes for the force of his grip. “I haven’t seen him since the war started.”

He told himself he’d see him again when it ended – see all of them again when it ended. But the years dragged on: deployment after deployment. Death after death.

He never got to say goodbye to Ponds, either.

Obi-Wan stands silent. He doesn’t say anything; he doesn’t have to. There’s never been a need for words between them. Cody feels the sudden press of a gentle, serene wave, whispering at the edge of his mind – there for him to sink into or press away.

Cody manages a lopsided smile and reaches out and lets the soothing cool wash over him. The burning fire in his chest dulls to an ache. Obi-Wan’s mouth quirks up slightly. There’s a quiet peace in his eyes.

“Thank you,” Cody says, and swallows against the lump swelling in his throat.

“It’s me who should be thanking you,” Obi-Wan says. His grip on Cody’s shoulder tightens slightly. “If it wasn’t for you, I’d still be back in that office.”

“You don’t have to complete those forms,” Cody points out. “It is technically my responsibility.”

Obi-Wan scoffs. “We are both commanding officers for the 212th,” he says. “We will share the burden equally.”

“That’s not _technically_ regulation.”

Despite the exhaustion in his face, Obi-Wan’s eyes sparkle with a hint of mischief. “I suppose we’ll have to resign ourselves to a few infractions, then.”

Cody rolls his eyes. “You should get some rest.”

“So should you.”

“I will,” Cody says, “once I’m sure you’re not going to go back to your datapad.”

“I promise.”

Cody arches an eyebrow.

“Really,” Obi-Wan says, and holds his hands up placatingly. “I’m far too tired to be of much more use anyway. I’m not even sure I spelled my own name correctly on that last one.”

Cody scrutinizes him for a moment more, then nods down the hall. They walk in silence to Kenobi’s quarters and stop outside the door. Obi-Wan’s acceptance of the room’s existence and resignation to its use is less a willingness to live in the same conditions as the men under his command and more an effort to give them at least a modicum of privacy. In the field, he’s always among their ranks. On the _Negotiator_ , he does his best to give them some space.

“Goodnight,” Cody says, though it sounds more like a _thank you_ than a farewell.

Obi-Wan’s smile is soft. “Goodnight,” he says.

_Of course. Any time_.

\--


End file.
